Ever Since Hogwarts
by Bjafi
Summary: **ON HAIATUS** He didn't realize it was love until after ten years of animosity. Now, three years since the end of the war, Draco is ready to finally accept his love for his childhood nemesis, and hopefully capture Harry's heart as well DMHP SLASH
1. The Maturity Game

**Disclaimer:**

**I DON'T own Harry or Draco, unfortunately. Nor do I own anything else pertaining to Hogwarts/Harry potter.**

**Also. This is a SLASH, A YAOI, A FLAMINGLY GAY PIECE OF FANFICTION. **

**we will call it**

**FLAMEFICTION!)**

**If you don't like it, don't read. Please, continue.**

It started before he knew what it was, how to handle it. It started so early on. And, God, for Ten years, it hadn't ended. The feeling hadn't died.

So young, it seemed, to fall in love. Too young. Maybe that was why he didn't believe it was love until so many years later. Draco couldn't understand how he had been chained so early in his life, and never released. Chained by the defiant look of that young boy on the day they met. Chained by the sadness in both their hearts.

Ever since that day at Hogwarts. He had followed him, followed Harry Potter through everything. Always a step behind, or in the wrong direction, always a failed attempt to get closer to him. Childhood animosity was never such. It had always been fascination, admiration. It had always been love.

Now, their paths were finally converging, and all Draco could do was act like the spoiled young boy he had been all those years ago. The war had ended. His side had lost. His family had, eventually, died. Draco Malfoy had become nothing. In the blink of an eye, he was nothing.

Still, Harry Potter had the followers, the fame, and the friends. He had the public eye, and Draco's eye. He had risen through the tiers of the wizarding world to take a new place on the Hogwarts faculty. In all ways, Harry was the success that Draco had been reaching for. In all ways, Harry was what Draco craved, envied, and desired.

And now, here in the great hall, on the day of the new school year, as the Headmistress spoke to the students, grey eyes met green.

Draco had wondered if Harry had forgotten him in the three years since the end of the war, but the look in his eyes clearly said otherwise. It was obvious that Harry did not expect Draco to be sitting at this table, to be here at Hogwarts, to be a member of this faculty. Still, it was easy to see from his eyes that he recognized the slightly scarred young blonde sitting on the opposite end of the long table.

That, at least, was a small triumph for Draco.

Headmistress McGonagall, though old, had a powerful voice that had lasted for years. That voice broke Draco out of his reverie, away from the green eyes that snared him.

"Please welcome a new addition to our teaching staff, a former student, and our newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Draco Malfoy."

McGonagall had never liked Draco much, but one would never have been able to tell from the tone of her voice and the way the hall reacted to her announcement. Actually, Draco had wondered why she had accepted him for the job, but they would have a long time to talk about it. For now, all that mattered was that she knew Draco was reformed. That they all knew Draco was reformed. He just hoped that Harry understood too.

He stood and bowed, emerald green robes shimmering in the candlelight, making him look noble again, though only for a moment. His smile was a little crooked, thanks to the scars on his face, but he was still handsome. The female students realized this immediately. It struck him then that a few years ago his surname would have been associated with danger, with evil, but not now. Apparently the Malfoy family had been forgotten. Well, that suited Draco just fine. As long as no one remembered who he was besides Harry he would be able to find contentment, if not happiness here.

Harry leaned forward, clapping with the rest of the hall, but still looking confusedly at his childhood nemesis. Draco sat down, eyes moving at once back to the man he had come here to find. This time, he wouldn't screw things up. This time, he would fulfill his dreams of this strange romance.

_Hey, Potter,_ He thought with an arrogant smirk, settling back into his seat. _Maybe this'll be just like old times._

------------------

The tables had, once again, magically cleared themselves, the students had, once again, returned to their dormitories. Teachers had retired to their chambers, and the great hall was empty. Well, more or less. Draco was planning on waiting for Harry outside, but he found himself fortunate when he overheard a discussion that was clearly not meant for his ears.

"Headmistress, You were supposed to inform _all of us_ when there was a new appointment to the position! Especially a former death eater! _Especially_ Draco Malfoy!"

"Potter, you're giving me a headache," the old, tired voice of his once professor responded. "I told you, it was a last minute decision. Besides, you would have quit, and we need you this year. You're the new head of Gryffindor house, not to mention every student's favorite Transfiguration teacher." Her voice was full of pride, yet he didn't acknowledge it at all.

"Headmistress, please reconsider this appointment. Malfoy? He'll ruin the program. Defense against the Dark Arts is just that. _Defense_. He'll turn this academy into another Durmstrang if you let him."

She laughed, clearly putting Harry on edge, "Well then, I just won't let him." She was mocking him.

"Fine. I'll keep an eye on him if you won't," he responded heatedly. Draco heard his footsteps stomping toward the doors, toward him. Draco didn't have time to avoid Harry, but he wanted the man to see him anyways. He wanted to show Potter just how different he could be from the old Draco.

Harry pushed through the double doors, practically running into Draco as he did so. He was clearly not happy.

"Malfoy!" he blurted out, already on edge. "Merlin— I didn't—" He took a second to compose himself under Malfoy's self-satisfied smile, "Good evening, Professor." He said after a moment, sidestepping Draco and heading toward the staircase.

"Good evening?" Draco turned toward him, indignant voice stopping Harry in his tracks. "What, Potter, after three years? That's it? Nothing like 'How was Azkaban, Malfoy' or 'kill any new muggles lately?' I expected something a bit more hostile from someone who just spent the evening shouting at our headmistress about me."

Harry didn't respond at first. He had always tried to put himself above Draco's favorite sarcastic argumentation. Still, he found that three years, no, more than that, without facing this idiot had put him out of practice. Somehow, he couldn't stop himself.

"I'm not in the mood, Malfoy."

Ah, that was more like it. Draco grinned and walked closer to Harry who was clearly trying to get away as soon as possible.

"I can tell. Then again, are you ever in the mood to argue with me?"

Harry fumed. Malfoy didn't even have to _say_ anything to get him riled up. His being there was all the provocation Harry needed, and he could tell that the ex-slytherin was reveling in it.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Diving straight to the point was always how Harry dealt with him.

"Teaching." Draco knew how to make Harry angry. And for some reason, he was pushing all the buttons now. Short, obvious responses. Force him to keep talking.

"When did you get out of Azkaban?"

Draco glared at this one, old animosity showing up once again. Apparently, Harry knew his buttons too. "That's none of your business, Potter."

He sighed, shaking his head, old glasses slipping to the end of his nose. "Merlin, you haven't changed at all. Some of us have grown up, Malfoy. You might want to catch up."

"What?!" Draco had nothing to say to that. For once, the charismatic blonde was speechless, and he stood idly by while Harry turned, making his way up the stairs.

Draco, in a state of confusion, turned toward the dungeons, toward his chambers, saddened and disheartened. Harry was right. They weren't students anymore. But Draco couldn't quell the longing that everything could become what it used to be. True, back then Harry had disliked Draco, but now…

Draco closed his eyes, as the word "hate" popped into his mind.

Merlin… If Harry harbored this hatred for him, how on earth could Draco take his heart?

"Fine, two can play this game. You want to act all mature and emotionless, be my guest. I'll make you love me yet."


	2. What Everyone Knows About a Malfoy

**Thank you all for your reviews!!!!! I'm afraid I barely have time to write, so I don't have much time to respond, but I read them and I'm VERY appreciative! I hope you all like this. It's my first fanfic.**

**Anyhoos, back to the story, eh? Usual disclaimers, blah blah**

Draco had often walked across these grounds, curling robes around himself, attempting to stay warm in the crisp autumn wind. It had been years, though, since those days, and he felt nostalgia grip him as he traversed this old path to the lake. Most of the students were in class. He had one hour in which to compose himself, to think, before the next batch of kids walked into his room, holding him to an ideal that he could not fulfill. They expected to be taught, well, Draco was an awful teacher. He didn't even like kids very much. He did this for Harry. He came back to Hogwarts for Harry. And that man wouldn't even look at him.

It had been a week since the first day, and Draco had hardly seen Harry at all. When he had attempted to talk to the elusive Potter, he had answered with short, deliberate words, turning Malfoy's tactic back on himself. It was damn dirty and rotten.

Needless to say, Draco was getting depressed, more than depressed. Was it so much to ask to be forgiven for past sins? If all he wanted now was the love of the man he admired, could Harry blame him for that? Well, Harry didn't know. How could he know? Draco was always acting like such a punk around him.

"Maybe I'll just come out and say it," he mused to himself, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear so it would stop blowing in his eyes. "'Hey, Potter, let's get dirty.' No. That sounds a bit too straightforward. 'Hey, Potter--' OH, wait. No that's even worse... Aw, fuck it. Subtlety was never my strong point."

He had come to the edge of the lake, steel gray in the cold, reflecting the sky, reflecting Draco's mood. "God, cheer up already."

"Seriously, Professor, it doesn't become you, looking so down."

He jumped sky high, stepping in the shallow part of the lake, soaking his leg, turning just in time to see a student step from the shade of one of the nearby trees. He recognized her, from class, but for the life of him he couldn't remember her name, her age... anything.

"Ah! What-- what are you doing out of class?" He asked loudly, stepping away from the lake and muttering a drying spell at his pant leg.

She giggled. " Well, what are you?" He looked at her again, noting the Slytherin house uniform, the dark hair, the flirty way she looked at him. Oh lord. It was another one of those students.

"Listen, um... female--"

"Liza. I've been going to your class for a week, Professor Malfoy. You could at least remember my name."

"Whatever. Liza, then. Get back to the castle. It's cold."

"I could say the same to you. What were you doing out here, Professor? Mumbling and everything. You looked crazy."

He sighed, rubbing his head for a moment. "Listen, girl. I am crazy. Get that whole flirty look out of your eye, because I'm not worth the trouble. You're wasting your time trying to talk to me, flirt with me. Hell, you're probably wasting your time learning from me. Get back to class."

Liza seemed to laugh a little in her eyes, and the expression she had worn previously was replaced with a familiar look of arrogance. Familiar? Yeah, it was the same look Draco had when he spoke to Harry.

She turned away from him, toward the castle, and said something that made his heart stop beating, though it was so quiet it almost got lost on the wind. "Flirting, Professor Malfoy? Flirting with you is the last thing I'm planning on doing. I just hope you know that not all of us have forgotten. I was here the day Professor Potter killed the Dark Lord. A lot of us were. You can't just run away from your past." She looked over her shoulder at him, a self-satisfied smile on her face. "I'm sure Professor Potter understands that. Maybe that's why he's ignoring your advances?"

He paled, nearly drawing his wand on her before reminding himself that she was a student. "How did you--"?

"Please, Professor. You're so loud; I wouldn't be surprised if Harry Potter himself heard you. I'd better get back to class." She giggled at him, at the dumbfounded look on his face. "You'd better too."

She began to walk off, hips swaying deliberately. "Not flirting, huh?" He said (very quietly this time.) That girl was trouble.

He looked toward the castle, toward the place where Harry was undoubtedly standing before a class. To where he would have to be doing the same thing in a few minutes. When would he find time to talk to him? How would he be able to speak? Draco would have to put himself in an awkward situation, something he had avoided since birth. It wasn't good for his image. Nonetheless, image would be something he had to sacrifice to finally get that stuck up Potter's attention. Actually he'd have to sacrifice quite a few things. The past for one.

There was always the past to consider.

He shifted his gaze to the girl, now closer to the castle's doors. Unfortunately she was right. He'd have to keep his eye on her.

---------------

Dinner.

Once again, Harry was about ten people away from him at the long staff table. He couldn't keep leaning forward to look at him. He had a feeling it was gathering some attention. Especially from a certain annoying Slytherin girl.

Draco was upset.

All day he had been stuck in that classroom, thinking about Harry. Always about Harry. It was ridiculous and embarrassing. He felt like a love struck schoolgirl. He had to let the man know how he felt. He had to unload ten years worth of emotion. It would have to be tonight after dinner, before he burst. Tonight after dinner, when Potter was finished.

Some of the other teachers (Draco hadn't bothered to learn their names) were looking at him oddly, maybe noticing the way he picked at his food, gnawed on his lip. He tried to pay them no attention, but like that stupid girl, they seemed to horn in on his personal bubble. The only person he would accept in that bubble was currently ignoring him intensely, though obviously aware of the blonde professor's constant surveillance.

Draco had to admire how Harry stuck to his cold-shoulder tactic, even if it did cause him no end of anguish. It was just another testament to how determined and driven that man could be. It was just another reason Draco found himself here.

Why him? Well, Draco couldn't figure that out if his life depended on it. There was nothing very special about Harry Potter, but he found himself falling nonetheless, deeper and deeper every time he managed to catch a glimpse of those stunning green eyes.

Ah, and here! Another such moment. Potter's stare flicked toward Draco for only a moment before returning to its intense study of the dinner plate before him. Draco smiled, reveling in the embarrassed flush that crept up Potter's cheek then. Or maybe it was anger that caused the red in his face? No matter. It was recognition.

Plates cleared, children left, and Potter tried to run away. Ha. Good luck. Everyone knows that when a Malfoy has his heart set on doing something, he is going to goddamn do it. And right now, Malfoy wanted to talk to Harry.

------------

Draco managed to accost the flustered professor on the staircase, only capturing his notice after quite a few shouts and insults. Thank Merlin it was all empty, save for the ghosts and portraits, Draco never cared much about what they said.

"Merlin, Potter," Draco gasped, finally catching up to Harry who was stopped halfway up the stair. "You run fast for a little guy."

"What do you want Malf--" he sighed, amending himself. "Professor?"

Malfoy chuckled, finding the pissed off, poignant stare of the man he loved to be so adorable, even behind his thick glasses, even behind his scar.

"Oh, Potter. If only you knew," he said, moving only a little bit closer. Taking the other man by the tie, Draco pulled him in. The look on Potter's face was a guarantee that if Draco let go, he would fly out of there as quickly as he could. The man was nervous, but Draco wasn't sure why.

Was the way Harry trembled a sign of his fear, of being at the mercy of one he believed to be a death eater? Was he worried that the enemy had snared him?

Or... as the look in his eyes seemed to say, was he scared of the proximity, of the dangerous closeness of their lips?

The great Harry Potter had nothing to fear from a low-rank apprentice of the dark arts, but there was so much to dread in the idea of a kiss... Draco's kiss.

"You've been ignoring me, Potter."

Harry reached for his wand.

Draco grasped his wrist.

Harry pulled back.

Draco pushed forward.

"Let me go, Malfoy." There was no mistaking the tone of his voice. Pure hatred. Oh, Draco knew it well. It was raw; it was ugly; it made Draco's skin crawl.

Still so cruel? Fine. He knew it might not be easy to sway Potter so quickly. Even showing his feelings to the man, exposing himself for the first time he could remember... even that wasn't enough for Harry Potter.

So he released Harry's wrist, his tie. He backed up a step, breathing in the air that had no scent of Harry, that was cold compared to the warmth he had breathed in moments before. He wasn't holding onto Harry any more, but those eyes wouldn't let him go.

"Malfoy--"

He turned, retreating down the staircase, leaving Potter dumbfounded and angry, leaving himself unsatisfied and hurt.

Harry had no idea what had just happened. That much was apparent. Draco couldn't stand that, but he was too afraid, too embarrassed to go back and clarify. The hatred in Harry's voice was rejection enough for him.

For now.

But everyone knows that when a Malfoy has his heart set on doing something, he is going to goddamn do it.

His heart was set on Harry, and no amount of resistance at this stage of the game could deter him. Oh hell no. Not now.


	3. Why Women Don't Belong in Slash

**Again, thank you all for the reviews!! And the favorites! It means soooo much to me!!! Sorry it's been a couple weeks. I've been indulging in a new fandom. If you've seen Tinman (that scifi special) I am now on a MAJOR CainXGlitch kick. lol! So that's how I've been spending my time, looking up that fanfiction. I may write one myself here in a bit, so be on the lookout! Anyways, back to the story!**

All he needed was a game plan. He had a goal, he had the drive, the ambition, now all he needed was the ability to make it happen. This was, unfortunately, much easier said than done. Nights that probably should have been spent grading papers or comming up with lesson plans were instead dominated by Draco's wild fantasies and useless plots to gain the attention and admiration of the Transfiguration Professor.

Damn him. Harry Potter was single-handedly turning Draco into a wreck, into a shadow of his usual self. It was ridiculous and unfair, but he couldn't stop it. This had all been set into motion years ago when they first met, and now it was going to come to a culmination, hopefully the way that Draco intended it.

Love! Love! what a strange passion grips those who succumb to this word. Draco was now a victim of this passion, though Harry remained outside its grasp.

The lucky bastard.

Draco smiled now, a smile lit only by the faint lamplight that flickered beside him on his desk. The darkness surrounded him, but he didn't seem to notice it. All he saw was Harry. Harry was all he ever saw.

It was late, Draco knew, yet he knew that sleep would evade him again tonight. Instead of lying alone and cold in those sheets, he sat staring into the dark, remembering.

Only days before, he had been watching Harry, inconspicuous, but never trying to hide. Indeed, he often hoped he would be noticed. However, that day, he had watched with no intention of speaking to the Professor. He had watched, and hated what he had seen.

Harry Potter was not a flirtatious man. He was studious, these days, dedicated to his work, perhaps trying to shed the vestiges of the war. He smiled, true, but never so sweetly as he smiled at her. Draco saw it all, and envied the woman who received this strange display of affection. The Herbology teacher, he supposed, the lovely blonde who was always sitting beside Harry at dinner, always touching his arm, laughing with him. Oh, how Draco hated her.

He had never been so livid as he was that day, though he hid the raw emotion behind his famous Malfoy mask. When he accosted Harry after witnessing his flirtation, Draco managed to sound only mildly annoyed.

"So whatever happened to the Weasley girl?" He said fluidly to Harry as he kept step with him through the corridor. "Flirting with Professor Whatserface over there doesn't seem like a good idea."

"Ginny and I don't talk much anymore," Harry said, but quickly caught himself, adding a snap to his tone. "Not that it's any of your buisness, Malfoy."

Draco smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Ah. That means you're on the market, then, eh?"

Harry stopped, turning to Malfoy. "On the market? That's a ridiculous way of putting it, but yeah, I guess. Honestly, though, I don't know what my personal life has to do with you."

Draco had wanted to say that it in fact had a great deal to do with him, as he was looking to become a part of it, but he had displayed an uncharacteristic act of cowardice, and he had said nothing.

This is what he dwelled on now, deep in the darkness of his study, his empty bed taunting him, the flickering lamplight laughing at him. He knew that if he had spoken then, it would have only pushed Harry farther away, but he continued to berate himself. He had to take action.

Liza, the slytherin girl he had met at the lake, was constantly asking for updates on his relationship with Harry. He assumed the girl was just making fun, but it was distracting and annoying, and he was always worried when he saw her speaking to Harry that she was saying something about him.

Draco didn't want outside interferrance. He did not want the Slytherin girl or the Herbology professor to meddle in his rocky relationship. He would do his best to snag Harry. And it would all start tomorrow.

This he promised to himself, standing and moving toward the cold bed he would be tossing and turning in tonight. He would say everything to Harry that he hadn't said before, and God, he'd do it before any more women screwed it up.

---------------------------

Finally, there he was. All day, in between classes, Draco had been searching the corridors for Harry Potter. He had been nervous all day. Imagine that! Draco Malfoy! Nervous! It was insane. He was insane.

But finally he caught a glimpse of jet black hair, determined strides, and a figure he would recognize from a mile away. Finally he was close, and this time he wouldn't let Potter run off. This time, he wouldn't fumble over his confession. He knew what he wanted to say, and he could only hope that Harry would understand.

He quickened his pace, following Harry through the crowded corridors, flying round a corner.

But his progress would be impeaded by yet another woman.

"H-Headmistress?" he panted at McGonagall, having barely missed running straight into her. He stepped to the side, attempting to see where Harry had gone, but he had lost him. Nearly cursing under his breath, he smiled fluidly at the Headmistress. "Good afternoon."

"Draco," she said, and her harsh tone made him feel as though he were back in school.

"Yes?" Was she here to talk to him about Harry? Honestly, he wasn't _stalking_ him!

"We need to talk about your position here at Hogwarts."

His position? Oh, yeah, as teacher.

"What about it?"

She sighed, rubbing her forehead as though he were giving her quite a headache. "As a Professor, certain things are expected of you. You are to be a role model for your students. You are to teach them, assign them essays and homework. I have received numerous complaints that students are learning nothing from you. One girl even started to cry, she was so upset."

Draco flinched, already feeling horrible about this whole thing.

"Today, I will be taking over Defense Against the Dark Arts. For the rest of the day, you will be sitting in on Professor Potter's class. Maybe then you will see what a real teacher is like?"

He nodded, understanding her intent, yet feeling a deep well of nervousness rise into his throat, along with the guilt she had induced in him. She smiled coldly and walked past him, giving Draco a moment to collect himself. He turned to where he had seen Harry dissapear. Professor Potter, eh?

Walking slowly down the corridor, Draco tried to ready himself, for Harry's class, and for what he would have to say to him afterwards.


	4. Too Much to Ask

**HI AGAIN!!! Okay, so things are moving forward this chapter. The usual disclaimers apply, though I'm going to have to warn you that in future chapters, there'll be a bit of mildly explicit content. I'm going to raise the rating to M. Sorry guys, but it's all for the sake of the story! **

**Anyways! A major shoutout and thanks to everyone who reviewed and favorited! It's so sweet of you guys, really.**

**And a special shoutout to Heart of Shou! You're so freakin awesome. (just so you know lol)**

**Anyway! ENJOY**

"Are you serious?" Harry looked confused. "I thought McGonagall liked me. Why's she punishing—"

Draco pouted. "Wait a tic! My company is a punishment?"

Harry smiled, in spite of himself. "Oh, Malfoy, if only you knew. Fine, just sit in back. And please don't interrupt."

"I'd never dream of it," Draco replied charismatically, giving the bespectacled professor a mocking bow. "Show me your prowess as a teacher."

He didn't fail to notice Harry's grin, nor the slight tinge to man's cheeks. Ah, the famous Malfoy charm even did a number on Harry Potter. He loved being beautiful, even scarred as he was.

Gradually students entered the classroom, each of them giving him strange looks, wondering why he was there. He recognized some of them, but one caught his eye and smirked.

That idiotic female. Liza. She seemed hell bent on getting he and Harry together. Well, good news for her, it seemed to be closer than he had previously hoped. Harry gave him a glance before launching into the lesson. Finally acknowledgement, finally a tentative friendship. Friendship? Oh, he hoped so.

The whole lesson was quite an experience. He hadn't sat in on a transfiguration lesson in years, and it was thoroughly useless information, something about turning a mouse into a pair of handcuffs, but Draco was learning something.

He practiced with the students, though his handcuffs never quite lost their mousy fuzz. Liza walked past him halfway through the lesson, laughing quietly. "It's okay, Professor, You may be able to use those fuzzy handcuffs later."

Her giggling upset him immensely, and he transfigured his handcuffs back into a mouse, glaring at her back.

All in all, the lesson had been… fun. It was ridiculous to say it, but he had enjoyed being taught by Harry, listening to him talk, watching him all class. It was fantastic, and as the students filed out of class toward the end, he walked up to Harry, smiling a sweet smile.

"Hate to say it, Potter, but I learned a thing or two."

Harry laughed, "Didn't look like it. That was the poorest transfiguration I've ever seen!"

"Ah, so you were watching?" Draco raised an eyebrow, shamelessly flirting. Everything about this courtship would be shameless. That was just how Draco operated. It was encouraging, though, seeing Harry respond so well.

After this last comment, though, Harry seemed to realize how familiar he was acting with his childhood rival. He looked down at his desk, shuffling some papers.

"So why'd McGonagall ask you to sit in on my class today?" Harry asked awkwardly.

Draco thoroughly enjoyed the flush on Harry's cheeks.

"She thinks you're the best teacher here, Potter. And she knows I'm the worst. I was supposed to learn something from you. And hey, I think I have."

Harry looked up at him, genuinely flattered. "She thinks I'm the best?"

Draco gave him a look. "Well, she didn't say it outright, but geez, Potter, you're the wonder boy. She loves you."

Laughing, the professor blushed deeper, eyes glazing a bit. "Well, I'm glad I could help you learn something today, Malfoy. Will you sit in again someday?"

"Sure," he replied, eyes and voice soft, staring at the man he loved, dying for the man he loved. "So long as you sit in on mine. I'll be a decent professor if I try, right?"

"Yeah. All you have to do is try, and—"

Harry didn't have a chance to finish his sentence. Indeed, every thought flew from him in an instant when Draco leaned forward, pressing his pink lips against Harry's.

It had happened in a moment, a split second decision. Draco wasn't planning on kissing him; in fact, it wasn't even an option before this moment, but Merlin! Harry had looked so beautiful, smiling, blushing, green eyes glinting. Lord, he couldn't help himself.

Time seemed to stop. Draco hadn't closed his eyes when he kissed Harry. He wanted to wait, to watch, to look. If only he understood what he saw.

Harry was scared. It was obvious. His lips quivered, his eyes widened. He seemed to flinch a little as though he wanted to pull away, but he stayed put, allowing Draco to press closer.

Still, when the blonde pulled away, eyes alight with a passion held secret for ten years, the man he loved provided a very unwelcome response.

"Get out."

Draco gaped.

"Out."

"Harry—"

"Malfoy!"

Draco cringed, feeling the anger radiating from Harry. If only he hadn't made himself vulnerable. All it took was a kiss, and Malfoy was laid as bare and open as a child.

And Harry had already taken advantage of this exposure, cut him to the quick.

Draco tried for one more appeal.

"Harry—"

"Out."

Eyes narrowing, he turned, exiting with an almost reckless anger.

The bastard. Why was he so unresponsive? God, Draco had made a mistake, but the cards were on the table now, and God, he would make Harry his somehow.

As he stalked through the corridors, he passed the pretty blonde herbology teacher, giving her a look of the purest hatred. She was probably headed towards Harry's classroom, where he'd look scared and she'd ask him why, and he'd respond that the new Defense professor was a flaming homosexual.

Oh Draco could hear it all already.

He sighed, losing his momentum, losing his irritation. Now all he could do was lean against the corridor wall, defeated, alone, and so, so tired of trying.

It was too much to ask after all.


	5. You're My Preoccupation

**Sorry it's been so long!! I've had some issues that are now (hopefully) resolved and some serious writer's block! That last chapter was absolutely terrible and I wanted to re-write it, but I didn't. instead I'm just going to try to make this story better. Starting here, with near-smut. Everyone loves near-smut almost as much as they love smut! thanks for the reviews and favorites, you guys! 333**

"What do you want, Malfoy?" He asked the moment he entered the empty classroom. Draco had practically begged him to come, something very uncharacteristic for the charismatic blonde. Maybe Harry realized how desperate he was.

Well, Draco doubted Harry knew the extent of this desperation, but he could tell there was some understanding there.

"I was hoping you'd be willing to sit in on one of my classes, but it looks like you missed it."

"Why on earth would want to watch your poor excuse for a lesson?"

"Listen, I know you're mad--"

"Mad? No, Malfoy. I just thought that you had grown up a bit, and then you pull a stunt like that?!"

"You mean the kiss--"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You know, I've been trying harder at this whole teaching thing." Draco sighed, sitting on one of the nearby desks. Harry looked at him calculatingly. "I've been trying harder."

Harry's reaction was cautious but slightly less guarded. "Why would it matter to me?"

Smiling slightly, Draco's eyes became entreating. "Well, you're a damn good teacher, and I thought if I became one you'd listen to me sometimes. Maybe act like I exist?"

"I already--"

Draco cut him off, laughing bitterly. "You've been ignoring me ever since I came here."

There were a few moments and Harry yielded a bit, relaxing enough to sit on the desk across from Draco. "I'm sorry, but you can't expect me to let ten years of pure hatred just dissapear. You've barely changed."

"You act like I'm still a little kid, Potter," Draco laughed, trying to break down Harry's carefully constructed walls.

He tried not to show his happiness when Harry replied with a near smile. "You practically are! One of my students said you usually sleep during class. I was afraid you were going to teach dark arts rather than defense, but it looks like you don't have motivation to teach anything!" Harry actually laughed, running his hand through his dishevled hair as usual, inticing a wanting look from Draco. "Honestly, Malfoy. Why did you take the post if you have no interest in teaching?"

Here it was. The question. Draco had planned on saying everything. He wanted to tell Harry all he felt, all he had felt since their days at school.

Everything. Everything.

It was the moment of truth, and no words were coming out. He stood and walked a little ways away, about to speak when--

"Well this is something I haven't seen in a while. Draco Malfoy, speechless." The arrogance in Potter's voice was something that Draco could NOT let slide easily.

He put on that smiling Malfoy mask and cocked an eyebrow. "Please, Potter. Don't think for a second that you have the ability to make ME speechless. I'll have you know I was thinking. That's something you should appreciate."

"Yet another thing I didn't expect. You're THINKING these days?"

Did Draco misinterpert the look in Potter's eyes? Was he... flirting?

No. that would be ridiculous. Still, he couldn't help testing him... just in case.

Draco moved forward a bit, getting closer to Potter with each word.

"I've been thinking a lot, actually, though according to you and McGonagall I haven't been thinking about the right things. See, I've been a bit preoccupied, Potter."

Harry didn't fail to notice the Draco's proximity, how he was getting a bit too close for comfort. Still the span of a desk away, but not nearly far enough.

Draco stopped walking.

The response was almost automatic.

"Preoccupied with what?"

Another oppritunity, Draco.

Say it.

Say it.

Say it.

"You."

And there it was.

"Me?"

"You."

Harry looked down with a nervous chuckle, pushing his glasses farther up his nose. "Very funny, Malfoy. I don't know what to make of you these days. First that little prank--" the kiss... "--and now..." He had passed it by like an idle joke, but Draco noticed the discomfort that Harry felt.

Moments of silence passed, and he broke the tension by creating more. Somehow he always managed to say stupid things like this around Harry.

"Who is that blonde professor you always talk to?" Draco couldn't stop himself from asking. That female was on his mind almost as much as Potter was, though for the exact opposite reason.

"You've been here a month and a half! Shouldn't you know everyone by now?"

"I told you, I've been preoccupied with you."

Harry glared at him. "It's not funny anymore, Malfoy." The discomfort was worse now, infinitely worse.

"I'm not kidding, Harry. I--"

"Did you just call me Harry?"

"Potter! I--"

"What's going on, Malfoy. I don't--"

It really was all he could do to shut him up. Honestly, Harry just wasn't listening. He had to do something. Maybe kissing him again wasn't the best idea.

Still, he had to admit it felt wonderful. He knew what Harry's lips felt like, but it was as though he was experiencing them for the first time. They were chapped and warm and wet and when Draco pressed closer and deeper into the kiss, he felt Harry's breath as well. It only lasted a little while, but it was something he would be hard pressed to ever forget. When Harry pushed him away, Draco was still breathless.

"What in Merlin's name was that?! I told you to stop playing around!"

No words were coming out.

"Malfoy!"

No words were coming out.

"That's it, I'm out of here. To think I believed you could just grow up..."

Draco was staring at Harry, staring at the frightened look in his eyes, staring at the blush on his cheeks and the angry way his hands curled into fists. When Harry stood and started to walk toward the closed door, Draco nearly died.

Fright. Embarassment. Anger. Those weren't the emotions he wanted to see.

"Why are you pushing me away?" Draco tried to stop himself. He was letting emotions control him again. He knew he was doing it, he knew he was starting to lose it, but he couldn't help himself. All his famous Malfoy composure seemed to melt away around Harry. "Why won't you just let this happen?"

"What?!" Harry was losing something too. He turned back to Malfoy with an angry glare, his usual mask of calm maturity fading, and Draco could see that boy again, the easily-riled brat that he had fallen in love with. "Let WHAT happen, Malfoy? Whatever it is you think is happening, it's all in your head!"

"That's not true and you know it! You don't like me, Potter, I get it! But something's been between us for YEARS and it's not just hatred."

"Says who?!"

"Says this."

And it happened. Draco moved forward in a flash, took Harry's wrists in a tight grip, and pushed him against the door. A moment later their lips had connected again. This kiss was different from the others. This kiss was hot and heavy and wet and Harry was so mad at him. Harry was so angry and Draco could feel it in the tension of his body pressed against his own. He could feel it in the way Harry's teeth took his lower lip, in the way he tried to free himself from Draco's grasp, but Harry wasn't just angry.

Somewhere in that body, Harry wanted this too. He knew it. And the arousal pressed against his thigh was quite an indication.

Draco didn't let his wrists go, but he pulled his mouth away, watching saliva trickle from Harry's mouth, watching the red flush on Harry's cheeks deepen. He licked that trail of saliva away and felt Harry shudder. It was a different kind of shudder, though. It was... pleasant.

"I told you so," Draco whispered, feeling the heat from Harry's body and pushing harder against him. "I told you."

"Stop acting like a kid, Malfoy..." Harry's voice was strained, but it was too difficult for him to mask the heady lust in his tone. Draco recognized it at once and took advantage.

"You said it yourself, Harry. I practically am a child. I take what I want. You've always known that."

He began to loosen his grasp on Harry's wrists, though he kept the professor pinned against the door with his body. He moved down, running his tongue along the slope of Harry's jaw, tickling his earlobe with his tongue. "This was gonna happen eventually. I just wanted it now. So... I took it."

He laughed at the obvious pleasure Harry was feeling, at the passion building beneath those too-tight trousers. He laughed at his seamless victory as he slid his hands down Harry's sides, feeling the gentle curve, and--

In a moment he felt something grab his hair and something else that felt strangely like a fist connect with his nose. Stumbling backward, he knew at once that it had been a mistake to let Harry's wrists go, and an even bigger mistake to think he had won.

Draco put a hand to his busted nose, feeling blood pouring from it. He looked at Harry increduously only to see an expression he had never seen before on the man's face. He was more angry than Draco had given him credit for.

"I told you, I'm out of here."

He couldn't help it. As Harry left the room, Draco smiled. the blood was pouring down, but he didn't even bother trying to stem the flow with his wand.

This was why it had to be Harry. He even loved the punches to the face and the insults and the anger.

This is why it had to be Harry.

Finding himself alone again, he laughed bitterly. He was so close, but not close enough to winning that man's heart.


End file.
